


I'll give to you the moon and stars

by mjonesing (klassmartin)



Series: Sixty Minutes Challenge [3]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Future Fic, Guys I think I overdid it with the mushiness on this one, Michelle Jones is a Little Shit, Peter Parker is just along for the ride, Slice of Life, probably canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:15:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24852184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klassmartin/pseuds/mjonesing
Summary: "I love you," he breathes, dropping a kiss onto her damp curls. He reaches for the mug but gets nudged by the stool beside her, and when he looks back up she's staring pointedly at the tablet. "I'm gonna be so late, Em. I gotta go."The chair bumps his thigh again. “I changed your alarm and the bedroom clock. You've got twenty minutes."Peter drops into the chair automatically."I could have slept for another twenty minutes?"
Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker
Series: Sixty Minutes Challenge [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777423
Comments: 11
Kudos: 88





	I'll give to you the moon and stars

**Author's Note:**

> Wow guys. I'm still floored. How INCREDIBLE was Spideychelle Week? Like... Fully mind blown. I’m still catching up but it’s all beautiful and amazing, and people have said such amazing things to me that I will hold so dear in my heart forever, so thank you.
> 
> I wrote this at some point during my prep for 'what it means to be living' when I needed a break, and uh... I love it. I don’t even know how technically good this is but I don’t care. It's so cute. I read it back just now to do the minor edits and I am floored at how gooey I am over these two.
> 
> Title is from Not Just a Girl by She Wants Revenge, a little tribute to my original otp.

Peter wakes up alone.

This isn’t massively out of the norm, but usually the other side of the bed is cold, and now it’s warm.

The alarm bells ring in his head.

...Maybe that’s just his actual alarm.

“Karen, shut up already,” he groans.

The beeping stops, and the new and improved A.I. replies in that always pleasant tone. “Peter, you’ve already asked me that. You now have ten minutes until your train is scheduled to arrive.”

His eyes snap open. He scrambles out of bed.

“Ten minutes?! What? Karen, how did you let me sleep in?”

“I have only done what was instructed of me.”

“Today is important and if I’m late -“ Peter throws open the closet and pulls out the first shirt his hand finds, rushing into the bathroom. “Karen you need to delay the train!”

He’s late. Oh God, he’s so late, _damnit Peter!_

He bounces around the room, one hand pulling up his jeans while the other brushes his teeth. He spits as he finishes fastening them, then skids into the living room as he runs a brush through his hair.

“Hey, loser.”

Michelle is the picture of calm, sitting at the breakfast bar in her sapphire blue robe. A cup of herbal tea is in one hand and a tablet is in the other, open as always to the world news. There’s another steaming mug at the end of the counter, a reusable lid lying beside it, with some toast and a banana on one of their soft blue plates.

He drops his brush on the sofa and grabs his bag from the hook by the door - definitely not where he left it when he stumbled in last night - and smiles despite his rush. Poking out of the zip in a Tupperware container, his favourite sandwich sits with a fresh salad waiting for him at lunch.

“I love you,” he breathes, dropping a kiss onto her damp curls. He reaches for the mug but gets nudged by the stool beside her, and when he looks back up she’s staring pointedly at the tablet. “I’m gonna be so late, Em. I gotta go.”

The chair bumps his thigh again. “I changed your alarm and the bedroom clock. You’ve got twenty minutes.”

He stares at her with that ridiculous swelling of _something_ in his chest that he gets whenever she does basically anything, ever, no matter what. “You did what?”

Her dark eyes flicker up to him. “You heard me. Now eat your breakfast.”

Peter drops intro the chair automatically.

“I could have slept for another twenty minutes?”

Her face is partially hidden from this angle, but he knows she rolls her eyes.

Reaching for his banana, he makes quick work of the peel so he can stretch out a free hand to squeeze her knee, thumb rubbing in soft circles. She drops the tablet to fix him with a scowl, but he just grins around a mushy lump of banana. Sighing, Michelle puts the device onto its stand and continues to read, but her fingers slot into the gaps of his own and hold him against her skin.

She sips her tea and he sips his coffee and the city sings it’s usual busy tune, but in their tiny little home it is quiet. Only when Michelle has finished her tea does she move away, squeezing his hand before he reluctantly lets go.

Minutes later, he spots the time on the microwave and curses, stuffing the last bit of toast in his mouth.

Michelle emerges from their room as he’s swiping his keys from the dish by the door, and she chuckles, a noise that makes him hesitate. He turns back to see her mere steps away, biting her lip against a sly smile.

“What clock _haven’t_ you changed? Will we ever know the real time again?”

“I don’t usually care about your horrid time keeping,” she says as she smoothes a hand down the crisp white blouse she’s now wearing, “But today is important and you need to make a good impression.”

He closes the space between them, encircling her hips in his arms. “What would I do without you?” he mutters, their noses brushing.

“Nothing,” she whispers, “You’d never succeed at anything without me kicking that ass of yours.”

She squeezes it for good measure, and he blushes just like she wants. He leans up the last inch to kiss her, deep and slow, to distract her and to thank her, and because he loves her.

When she pulls away, they’re both breathless. 

“Alright, enough of that. You only had an extra five minutes. Definitely need to get going.” She kisses him again, this time much quicker but a promise of more to come later. He groans and cups her cheek to pull her back, and she lets him press soft sloppy kisses into her lips as she shepherds him to the door.

When he finally pulls back, he’s over the threshold and her eyes are shining in that giddy way that is his alone.

“I love you,” he says again as he turns to walk away.

“Don’t be an idiot, get that job,” she instructs, and then he’s running out into the chaos of the city.

Later, checking his phone while he waits to be called in for the interview, there’s a text from her, a simple but beautiful, _I love you too._


End file.
